Conundrum
by AriMarvelUniverse
Summary: All of Hogwarts knows that Harry Potter is nothing but trouble, but a late night conversation in the library with the green eyed boy leaves Hermione twisted in knots with what she thinks she knows and what's really true. He's a puzzle, and she's determined to solve him, but it may cost her her life. Dark!Slytherin!Harry/Hermione, Ron Bashing. Rating may change.
1. Business as usual

**(A/N: If you're a repeat reader and very confused as to why this looks different, read Ch. 4. If you're just tuning in, then don't do that LOLZ. This is a slow build Dark!Harry/Hermione. Remember to review!)**

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To Ron Weasely, a day where he didn't get into a row with a Slytherin was a day wasted. At least as far as Hermione was convinced.

"Ron, Ron, Ron- Ron! Ronald! Ron, slow down-!"

"Can't," the tall ginger huffed, yanking Hermione along the bustling corridor by her arm. His hair was a rat's nest and his face was sweaty, clothes twisted and unkempt. He'd woken up late- again, but that was no real suprise- and Hermione had slept through her alarm due to a furious one woman study binge the night before. Neville, faithful as he was, had waited for them, and now all three Gryffindors were late to the Great Hall for breakfast, and on the first day back from Summer break no less.

Behind them, Neville struggled to keep up, squeezing his pudgy body through the tides of students, looking like a drowning baby chicken as he grasped for them helplessly. "Guys, guys, wait up, come on-"

Hermione stumbled as Ron continued to pull her along, getting more irritated by the second. "Ron! Merlin's pants, if you don't stop this instant-!"

"We have to hurry! Snape wants that Moonstone essay the minute we walk in, but if I don't eat before that bloody class I'll drop right dead, I swear I will-"

"My-arm-is-coming-off!" Hermione snapped, finally wrestling her hand away from Ron. "And we lost Neville."

Ron grinned. "Mione, he's always lost."

"Don't be mean." she huffed. They finally slowed to catch their breath and wait for their friend to catch up. Ron's stomach rumbled loudly. He groaned, and she smiled despite herself. "You'll have time for a bit of toast I think." Hermione reassured him.

"You think so, Mum?"

"Ron, _honestly..._"

Neville finally trotted up, red faced and panting, but with a small smile on his face. "Morning, morning...I think I forgot my cloak. It's alright, we don't have to go back, I'll just get it later."

"Not an option, Neville." Ron muttered. "We're so late, I can feel Filch getting excited now-"

"You want to move aside there, Weasely? This is a corridor, not a pub, though I'm not surprised you can't tell the difference."

The cold snarl came from behind them, instantly recognizable, and made the smiles slip from the third year's faces. Neville actually shivered as they spun around and found themselves eye to eye with a gaggle of Slytherin's, headed by one Draco Malfoy.

Ron's shoulders squared. "Piss off, Malfoy." Hermione's fingers clenched reflexively into a nervous fist when the blonde's lips curled into a smirk. _ Here we go again..._

Business as usual, then. She was starting to think they were destined to do this for the rest of their lives.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Weasely. I'd be in a hurry too, if this was the first time I'd eaten well in three months," Malfoy snickered. Ron's ears flushed a dark pink, and his teeth ground against each other so hard they squeaked.

"Shut up, you-"

"Come on, Drac, I'm starving here. Can't this wait till after breakfast?" Another voice, this one from behind Malfoy. A hard, heavy knot formed in Hermione's chest as Harry Potter stepped around his friend and leaned nonchalantly against the stone wall, bright green eyes bored and disinterested.

Much as she hated it, and much as she tried not to, Hermione found her eyes straying to him and couldn't stop them.

He'd changed since last year...his raven hair was longer than she'd ever seen it, and just as casually messy, obscuring the top rim of his glasses. A tiny portion of his famous scar peeked out from the wild locks, as if refusing to be ignored. He was dressed in a way that did a marvelous job of somehow managing to both flip off and obey the uniform- tie loose, robes undone, collar askew.

"Then go and eat, Potter." Malfoy snorted, not taking his eyes off Ron. Harry scoffed. "And explain to Snape that I left you fighting with some Gryffindors? No thanks."

Yes, he'd changed. He was sharper, meaner, more frigid than before. More Slytherin. It was an abrupt transformation, and it made her the tiniest bit...sad.

"You're not my keeper!"

"Right." Harry laughed, his voice a sharp contrast to the other boy's whining sneer. It was cold and smooth, like liquid silver, and it did..._something _ to Hermione's stomach, something that she wasn't exactly sure was unpleasant or not.

Which was a problem, obviously. Harry Potter's voice should not be making her feel ANYTHING other than uncomfortable.

"Sometimes I think that's all I am. Hell, give me an apron and I could be your dear old mummy."

But at least he was making an attempt to end it this time, before it really began. Ron, of course, took that in the completely wrong way.

"I don't need your help, Potter!"

Hermione had the strong urge to slam her palm into her forehead. Harry cocked an eyebrow and used his heel to casually scrape a bit of dirt from his trainers. "I wasn't offering it, Weasely. Like I said, I'm hungry, and you're in my way. So kindly get out of it."

"Come on, Harry," came a simpering giggle from behind- one the endless Harry Potter fangirls, trying to get in on the fun. "He's a WEASELY, you know you have to talk slower than that..."

Potter didn't even turn to look at the girl that had spoken. "Shut up, Hestia. Draco, seriously. Do you really want to be the reason Hook Nose takes house points? Let's go." Harry huffed.

"How was your summer, Weaesly?" Malfoy snickered, ignoring him. "Was it fun, sleeping in a field with the whole family?" The cronies and groupies giggled and cackled in appreciation, and Ron's face darkened another shade.

"Shut up or I'll hex the prick out of you!"

"I'd love to see you try, Weasely. Go on, give us a laugh."

They were making a scene now. The first and second years coming back from breakfast had stopped to watch the show.

Hermione sighed loudly, scowling. She glanced at Neville, who had gone white and looked like he was trying to apparate away on the spot, and stepped forward. It was up to her, again, as usual. "Ron, come on, it's not worth it."

"Listen to your Mudblood pet, Weasely."

There was a loud gasp. "Take that back, you slimy git!" Ron roared, raising his fists.

Hermione flinched and exhaled sharply, trying to banish the shamed flush in her cheeks. She was not embarrassed to be a muggle born, and never would be. But the way some wizards said it... It made her feel less than a witch. Less than human.

"Draco, come ON." Potter hissed, glancing around the corridor. They were bound to attract a teacher at this rate. But Malfoy was in rare form today.

"What? He's just mad because I'm right, and his family is full of-"

"At least I have a family worth speaking of!"

The hallway went cold, and the mood went from sporting to balancing on a knife edge. Out the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry stiffen, and heard the soft sound as his breath caught in his chest.

The jab had been meant for Malfoy, but had found its mark somewhere else. There was an unspoken rule at Hogwarts that in Harry Potter's presence, the mere mention of someone not having a family was never to be made. Even the Gryffindors, no matter how much they might dislike, distrust, or downright hate Harry Potter, followed that rule.

His eyes went glassy behind his lenses, and then a blank look settled over his face. "Shove off, Weasely," he said, cold and quiet. "Move aside."

Hermione recognized his mistake as soon as he opened his mouth. She could feel Neville pulling urgently on the back of her sweater. She winced in (sympathy? Anxiety? Expectance?) and opened her mouth to cut in, but Ron was quicker. Unthinkingly, whipped into a rage, he swiftly turned his anger on the dark haired boy.

"Oh yeah? And how was YOUR summer, Potter?"

Harry's teeth showed in a tight smile. "Peachy. Now get going."

Ron barreled ahead, seeing that he'd struck a nerve. "Yeah, I'll bet. Where'd you go? Aunt and Uncle's, then? Not like you'd have anywhere else..."

"Move, now, and shut up!"

"Oh that's right, you are living with the Malfoy's now, aren't you? Horrible luck, that, but at least they don't beat-"

"RON!"

"I said SHUT UP!"

Neville whimpered as his fingers twitched toward his wand. Malfoy copied the movement, and then _Thank Merlin Allmagical _McGonagall turned the corner right at that instant, nostrils flaring at the scent of trouble.

"What's all this, then?" she said. "Mr Weasely? Mr Malfoy?" There was silence, and McGonagall sniffed in tightly. "Indeed. Well, I'd suggest you all get to class, before those hourglasses pay the price for your gawking."

Her warning scattered the spectators. Malfoy shot one last murky glare at Ron before shuffling off, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and started to storm away, growling.

"Potter?"

"Yes, professor?"

McGonagall fixed him with an unreadable look in her flinty eyes. Her mouth worked as if she was trying to say something. Eventually, all that came out was-

"Fix that tie, Potter."

"Yes, professor."

As she was dragged away, Hermione couldn't stop herself from looking back over her shoulder at Potter. She watched him stand there for a few seconds more, hands shaking. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard, and just before they turned the corner, his flaming green eyes caught hers and held them.

Shivers rattled down her spine at the intensity of his stare, and her tongue dried against the roof of her mouth. Something in his face changed, shifted, fell away, and for the briefest second she could see another Harry Potter- pale, shaken, confused- like looking in a distorted mirror. It stunned her.

A breath later, and the strange vision disappeared. He tilted his head and a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, before he vanished from her sight.


	2. Insight

**(A/N: Hot DAMN, my inbox is bursting! Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed, followed, and favorited- it made a suckish day much better. Few things.**

**One, I'm changing the timeline of this particular story to third year. I know in the last chapter I said fourth, but I realized that the Tournament had already started by Christmas and I didn't want to have to squeeze in the ball and the challenges and what not. So, they are now third years. But there was some really great Harry/Hermione interaction in the fourth book, so I'll come back to that soon.**

**Two, because more than one person asked, I'm extending this from a two shot and making it a collection of related oneshots. *happy dance* Also, I'm taking requests and ideas for Harry/Hermione.**

**And three, if you have any concerns or issues with this story, don't put them under "guest" so I can't reply. I try to make a habit of replying to people, but please don't say stupid or hating stuff under "guest" (you know who you are, genius. The pairing box was correct, you just can't read. If you want Ron/Hermione, then go and find it.)**

**On the off chance you read all of that, back to the story. Ron bashing ahead, in the next chapter.)**

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Unusprisingly, the incident with the Slytherins had Ron agitated the entire rest of the day, making him short tempered and generally awful to be around. He sulked through the castle with Neville and Hermione in tow, inconsolable and angry at everything.

It was a typical hours long Ron tantrum- he nearly gouged his own eye out with his wand in Transfiguration, set a foot of scroll alight in Charms, lost ten points for cursing at a prefect, broke two vials in potions and snapped at Neville hard enough to make Snape SMILE for spelling a word wrong on the ingredients list.

That had been the last straw, and by dinner Hermione was at the end of her rope. When they got to the common room and started studying, and he was STILL grumbling about it, she snapped.

"Stupid, slimy gits..." he growled, slumped down in an arm chair and throwing wads of parchment angrily into the fire. "Evil, the lot of them...talk about my family...forget a hex, I'll shove my wand so far up their arses...pale, pasty wankers-"

Hermione, who had been trying to focus on her homework, gave up at that moment. "That's it," she exclaimed, closing her potions book with a snap and giving a hard roll of her brown eyes. "That's it. I'll do this somewhere else. You're not helping at all and I can't work around your moaning."

"Oh, what, like it's just me?" Ron grumbled. "You're not the least bit mad? After what they said about you?"

"No, Ronald, I'm not." Hermione snapped, lying through both her teeth and the hard blockage in her throat. "It's done, it happened, so please get over it."

"Where are you going?"

"The library," she huffed, grabbing her stuff and reaching for her bag. "Maybe you'll have stopped acting like a four year old by the time I come back." She shot Neville an apologetic glance, but started for the portrait hole just the same. If she spent any more time around Ron she'd burst, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Hermione swept through the quiet corridors with a red face and heaving chest. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and she wasn't exactly sure why. Yes, the Mudblood comment had hurt, but she expected nothing less from Malfoy.

She wasn't surprised at Ron, either, and his horrible behavior. She'd been dealing with it for ages, but that didn't mean she liked it. Actually, it was getting really annoying. His temper always managed to ruin things; flying off the handle and then skulking for hours later didn't help anyone.

Her lungs tightened in anger, and her footsteps resonated on the stone with force. She shoved open the doors to the library and dumped her bag on the first table she saw, simmering in irritation. With a curse, she realized that she'd left the book she needed in the common room. She groaned. Meekly coming back for it after her dramatic storm out would make her look stupid, and on sheer principle, she refused.

"Perfect. Just bloody perfect..." She plopped down into her chair and gripped her hair in both hands, trying to slow get breathing. Through a gap in her elbow, she saw another bag at a table across the room...next to an open copy of the book she needed.

Hermione inhaled and glanced around at the silent library. The owner of the bag was nowhere to be seen. She doubted anyone would notice if she borrowed it for just a second.

Immediately, guilt started bubbling in her gut, but the thought of going back to the common room and facing Ron brought her to her feet and across the floor. She grabbed the book and started to turn back-

"I was USING that, Granger."

That voice...

The color drained from Hermione's face. She twisted, and her fears were confirmed when her eyes fell on one smug Harry Potter, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"I...I didn't..."

"See my stuff here? Maybe you need glasses instead of me."

Smirking, he gestured at the bag, and she looked despite herself. Sure enough, there was a Slytherin badge pinned to the strap, and _Harry P. _written in messy scrawl across the flap.

Damn. _Nice going, Granger, very well done..._

Fighting the blush crawling over her ears, Hermione handed him the book. "Here. Sorry. I'll just...get it when you're done."

Potter didn't move to take it back. "I didn't say you couldn't use it, did I?"

Hermione didn't think her face could get any redder. "N-no...but we can't use it at the same time?" Why had that come out like a question?

She was wrong- Potter raised an eyebrow, and she felt her ears burn. She hated the way he looked and how it made her feel, as if he knew everything about the world, and she was just a dumb little kid guessing at the answers.

"I don't know, there's this thing now called sharing?" Now he was mocking her. Git. Her lips turned down at the corners.

"I didn't think you'd want to share with me, Potter."

His brows furrowed. "Why would you- oh. Right." He gave her a blank stare. "'Course. Because all Slytherins are prats, right?" He shook his head and turned away. "Forget it, Granger. Keep the book."

Hermione chewed her tongue. For some strange reason, she had the urge to stop him. "Wait, wait, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, we can share."

"Finally got there, have you?" he muttered. But he sat down all the same. Hermione gingerly sat in the seat next to him.

"You don't have to sit there, you know," he said, eyeing her tenseness. "I can read upside down."

"It's fine." She opened the book, making an effort to relax her shoulders. He rolled his eyes, but grabbed his pen and unfurled a roll of parchment.

They fell into a mostly comfortable rhythm. Whenever he needed to change the page, he'd slide a finger underneath and wait for her to nod okay before flipping it. There was no sound but the scritch scratch of their quills. She jumped a few times when their arms brushed, but he ignored it.

For Hermione it was surreal, almost dream like. She was spending time around Harry Potter, (around, not _with, _she wasn't with him. They just happened to be in the same space at the same time,) studying with him, and no hexes or insults were flying. It made her want to take a photograph.

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, and was suprised at how...normal he was. His teeth weren't fangs, his eyes weren't snakey slits, (they were a very pretty green though...they almost glowed, like neon,) and there was no stench of his poor, rotting victims around him, contrary to Ron's favourite belief. (He actually smelled a bit like the turf on the Quidditch pitch and something else that, weirdly, reminded her of Treacle tart.)

He was just a teenager, like her.

After a while, most of the awkward atmosphere was gone. Hermione sucked in a breath and cleared her throat, prompting Potter to glance at her.

"I, uhm...I'm sorry, about earlier. With Ron." she started quietly. "He shouldn't have said...that. Sometimes his temper..."

"It's fine." Potter mumbled, cutting her off. After a minute, he sighed. "I'm sorry too, about Draco and what he called you. Not all of us think like that."

"Oh, really?" Hermione muttered, mostly to herself. But she was so close that he heard it. He turned on her, and she flinched, but instead of anger, his face was serious. "Yes, really."

She bit her lip and turned back to her work. There was another brief pause, before he looked up again.

"Okay, Granger. What?"

"_What?"_

"What is it with you?" he asked, frustrated. "I only said we could share the book to mess with you. But then you go and say yes. And then you apologize for Weasely, like you actually care, and you don't hate me."

"I never said I didn't care!" Hermione protested. Then, realizing how she sounded, she back tracked. "A-and I don't hate you!"

He snorted. "Come on. All the Gryffindors hate me. I saw the looks on their faces when I was Sorted." There was pain and bitterness underneath the casual tone in his voice, and it made her flinch.

"We don't...we don't hate you. It's sort of...complicated. I suppose we were disappointed...we thought you'd be on our side." she explained. It had been a crushing blow to the Lion house, learning that the fantastic Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, defeator of the Dark Lord, someone who was sure to be a great wizard, was meant for Slytherin of all places.

"Side," he echoed, rolling his eyes. "There are no sides, Granger. Just magic, and people who are either afraid of what it can do or aren't."

"That doesn't sound like you," Hermione retorted without thinking. Potter fixed her with a strange look. "How would you know what I sound like, Granger?"

"I...I don't." She had the urge to charm her mouth shut. Hermione sighed and looked him full in the face. "That just doesn't sound like something you would say on your own."

He was quiet for a bit after that. As she looked at him, REALLY looked at him, at the whirling, tormented emotion in his eyes, something happened- the same thing that had happened in the corridor at breakfast- and it was as though she was truly seeing him.

This Harry Potter wasn't the same as the skinny, specky first year she remembered from first year. That one had been small and humble, wide eyed and innocent like the rest of them.

She remembered his questions, his polite manner, his easy smile as she, Ron and he sat in the compartment, exchanging stories and rumours and laughs. She remembered the stunned expression on his face when the Sorting Hat put him in Slytherin, the tears that lingered in his eyes as he was death marched to his new house.

She remembered him in Second Year, and the uproar that rocked the school when he came back from Christmas break with bruises the size of potatoes and two blackened eyes. She remembered the scandal of the Malfoy's becoming his legal guardians, and how Draco boasted for months about Harry Potter sleeping in his guest room.

She remembered the hate and fear that had resulted from the Chamber Of Secrets incident, and how most people still believed it had been him attacking MuggleBorns and refused to hear otherwise.

"He's a _Slytherin_," they'd say. "He's a _Parselmouth_. It HAD to be him." A few people still believed that he had tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone in their very first year, and that only Dumbledore's interference had stopped him.

Harry Potter now was a symbol, with his Quidditch tousled hair that could make any girl swoon when he flipped it, his new designer robes and trainers, the best broomstick money could buy and the skill to match, quality glasses...and above all an attitude that danced the line between cocky arrogance and acceptable, that the world owed him something, and yet he didn't care about its attempts to make it up to him. He acted as though he knew they didn't trust him, and couldn't care less.

In that moment though, Hermione saw beneath that facade, and saw the Harry Potter hiding under it- the eleven year old she met on the train who stammered when he was looked directly at, and had been forced to adapt and change himself to his situation. The mask had slipped away.

Life and the Dark Lord had taken his parents. His relatives pummeled him for being born a wizard and the Gryffindors ostrasized him for being unfortunate enough to be in Slytherin, so he had turned into a Slytherin to survie, else be cannibalized by his housemates.

The revelation was shocking, like a lightning bolt from heaven. Hermione gasped in her throat and looked away from his burning emerald orbs, hands trembling, terrified that he might see himself reflected in her eyes looking back at him. She knew in her heart that her suspicions were true, without him saying a word.

Potter turned from the truth and pity in her face like it burned him, balling his hands into fists. "No one cares what I say," he hissed. "No one cares what I do. Even when I try to be...I'm Harry Potter, aren't I? I'm a Slytherin. That's all I'll ever be. So why not give them what they want? No one gave me a choice and no one wanted to. That stupid hat-"

"H-Harry, Harry, wait-"

"Keep the book, Hermione. I'll borrow Draco's tomorrow." He stood up abruptly and gathered his things, while she sat there, stunned. He started to walk away, and something stopped him. Probably the same something that caused her to call him back earlier.

He turned, hesitated, but finally said... "...G'night."

She let out a small squeak as he left that was almost a reply, and she sat there long after he was gone.

He'd called her Hermione.


	3. A Slytherin's Brand of Advice

**(A/N: I took a few lines directly from the book here, so I just want to be clear that I OWN NOTHING FAMILIAR. J.K Rowling, please don't sue me.**

**IMPORTANT AS OF 12/26!**

**THIS EVENT IN THE BOOK HAS BEEN MOVED TO BEFORE CHRISTMAS! For explanations, read chapter 4, Notice!)**

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After the episode in the library, Harry Potter became a strange fixture in Hermione's life at Hogwarts. He was like lint stuck to her robes- completely unimpacting to her daily routine, but impossible to ignore for long.

She'd see him more in the hallways, her eyes seeking him out when before he would have been totally bypassed, or hear his laughter in the most random situations and wonder what was so funny, when before she couldn't care less.

Her mind would wander to him even when she didn't want it to. For example, sitting in class one day, she found her train of thought going in this direction-

'_No one pays attention in History of Magic. I swear I'm the only one...Padma's drooling, for Merlin's sake. That hairpin is gorgeous, though, the blues and greens look smashing in her hair...hmm, green...the Slytherins are in Potions now...I wonder did Potter show up on time?'_

The most stupid and insignificant things reminded her of him. But more than that, she started to feel his eyes on her, in the halls, classrooms, and courtyards. The prickly feeling of being watched would crawl over her neck and she'd glance around, usually to find him nearby and doing anything BUT looking at her. She started dreading the days that Gryffindors would have classes with Slytherins.

On and on this went, until she thought she was going mad. The worst was when others started to notice.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Lavender asked her one day, when they were paired together in Transfiguration. Hermione blinked up at her, startled. "Hm? Oh, y-yeah...why do you ask?"

"You've been a bit...distracted. You would have already done the spell by now..."

"Mmm." she mumbled, trying to convince herself that she WASN'T aware of the green eyed glare on the back of her neck.

Aside from her weird...whatever it was with Harry Potter, her friendship with Ron was falling apart at the seams.

He was CONSTANTLY angry with her, and found something wrong with everything she did, whether it be telling him that his answers were wrong on his homework to advising him to fix his tie. He snapped and snarled at her over the dumbest things, and she'd snap back. Poor Neville was caught in the middle, trying to keep the peace and failing miserably.

Little by little he was turning back into the Ron from first year, when they'd hated each other's guts. She knew it stemmed from a bigger issue, his hatred of her cat.

Honestly, it wasn't HER fault that Crookshanks chased Scabbers. He was a CAT, and it was impossible to control cats. Ron, true to form, ignored those facts and continued to wage war against her baby.

The day it came to a head, the entire common room was shocked out of what they were doing by a loud howl from the boys dormitory.

"What the hell-"

"No idea-"

"Was that Ron?"

Hermione, with a sick feeling curling in her innards, stood up to see over their heads. Sure enough it was Ron, and he was livid. "HERMIONE!" He shoved past the confused students and put himself right in her face, waving, strangely, a bedsheet. "LOOK! LOOK!"

"Ron,_ what-?"_

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

There was something red on the sheet...something that looked like-

"BLOOD! AND YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE?!"

She flinched as his fist came flying towards her, but then his fingers loosened and three long ginger cat hairs drifted down into her lap. Head spinning, ears ringing, she tried to calm him down.

"Ron, Ron listen-"

"YOUR DUMB CAT ATE MY SCABBERS! I TOLD YOU-"

"You don't know that!" Hermione exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "Maybe they got into a fight, look under the beds-"

"He killed him, Hermione! You can't be serious!" Ron yelped, shaking the sheet around wildly. "I TOLD you to keep that stupid cat under control!"

"_Crookshanks is not stupid!" _she shrieked, finally losing her temper. "And he didn't kill your wretched rat! You've hated him since he made you look stupid in Diagon Alley, and you've been complaining about Scabbers for ages!"

Ron's face was lava red. "I didn't want him dead! Admit it, that cat's a beast and I was right!"

"You've never been right about anything in your entire life!"

"You better hope I don't find that thing before you do!"

"YOU HURT MY CROOKSHANKS AND I'LL CURSE YOU SO HARD THEY'LL MAKE A NEW LAW ABOUT IT!"

"Watch me!"

"_Git!"_

With those parting insults, they both stormed away- Ron back up the stairs to the dormitory, and Hermione to the portrait hole.

The tears streaming down her face were blinding, so she let her feet take her wherever. She didn't go to the library- she went up and up and up, trying to get as far away from Ron as possible, not sure where she was going and not really caring, either.

Eventually, she found herself in the Owelry, on the completely opposite side of the castle from where she'd started. The room had a peculiar smell, like dry feathers and spilled ink.

She sat down on a bench by a large window and huddled down into her robes against the chilly draft, shoulders shaking with angry sobs.

Yet another fight with Ron. How could he defend her one minute, then turn on her the next? Embarrass her in front of the whole common room over a rat and a half baked suspicion?! Unbelievable.

She crammed her cold fists into her mouth to stifle her wails, but a fluttering sound near her ear made her look up. One of the owls, a magnificent Snowy, had flown down to circle her head. The bird perched itself haughtily on her knee and hooted softly, fixing her with one bright amber eye.

Hermione smiled through her tears. "H-hello there. Was I disturbing you?"

The bird blinked and studied her. If it could have rolled its eyes, she was sure it would have. Hermione stretched out a cautious hand toward it. "May I?"

The owl eyed her for a second, then hooted resignedly and closed its lids, as if to say "Yes, go ahead, silly girl." Hermione gently stroked its sleek back, wondering at its owner.

Footsteps, on the stairs. Hermione tensed, thinking maybe it was Ron trying to smooth things over.

"Hedwig? Where are you, you daft bird?"

The words registered on her a full two seconds before Harry Potter came into view. She froze, and her fingers ceased their petting, causing the owl to let out an indignant hoot.

She sighed and closed her eyes, relaxing again. It would be him, wouldn't it? She was almost not suprised, and she nearly smiled. He was making a habit of catching her at her worst.

"Granger?" He was muddy and wet, with dripping hair and sludge caked into his green Quidditch robes. His nose was pink from the frigid air, and he almost looked...cute-

Hermione stopped that thought COLD, clamping down on it with all the mental force she could muster and resolving never to think the words "Harry Potter" and "_cute"_ in the same sentence ever again. There was so much wrong with that...

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Potter asked, scratching at a smear of mud on his cheek. Hermione's lips turned down at the corners. "So I'm Granger again, am I?"

At her sharp tone, his mouth quirked into a smirk. "You want me to call you Hermione?"

"You want me to call you Potter?"

"I don't care either way," he retorted. "But it makes you sound like a teacher."

"Use my name, and I'll use yours." Hermione said. Potter shrugged, still smirking. "Fair enough. D'you think I could send my letter now?"

She turned away. "Go ahead, I'm not stopping you." She saw his smile widen, and she rounded on him. "What?"

"Well, seeing as how you've got my owl..."

His...? The bird on her knee pranced at the attention, and she exhaled loudly, already feeling a blush erupt in her cheeks. Why did he always manage to make her feel stupid? "Of course..."

She gave her leg a shake, and the owl glided over to him to perch on his arm, leg stuck out to wait for the letter. Hermione crossed her ankles. "He's yours?"

Harry glanced at her. "She," he corrected, "and yeah, Hedwig allows me to send things with her." Hermione blinked. "Hedwig? That's from-"

"Hogwarts- A History. Figures you'd know that." he laughed. Hermione was a little surprised. She hadn't taken him for a scholar. "She's beautiful."

"And she knows it. Lazy thing, though." There was genuine affection in his voice as he spoke about his owl, and it made her look at him strangely. He finished tying the paper to Hedwig's leg, and after nipping at his ear, the large bird took off soundlessly through the window.

"What was that?"

"Thank you note for Aunt Bella. She sent my birthday gift late." With a small shiver, Hermione realized he was talking about Bellatrix LeStrange, a suspected Death Eater years ago.

"You didn't answer my question, though. Why are you up here?" Harry queried. Hermione's eyes tightened, and she buried her chin in her knees. "It's nothing." She didn't know him that well- she wasn't about to pour out her heart to him.

To her dread, he smiled. "I bet I can guess."

"Let it GO, Potter!"

"Weasely being a prat, right?"

She stared up at him, shocked. "H-how did you-"

"It's not hard to figure out, honestly." he said. "You look like you've been crying and he's not here. You and Weasely and Longbottom are always together. Plus, he's always the reason you cry."

"Not...not always..."

"Come on, _Hermione," _he said, with only a tiny bit of mocking in the way he said her name, "I'm not as smart as you, but I'm not stupid." he huffed, crossing his arms. Hermione sniffled and shrugged. "Okay, so it was Ron. So what?"

"So what did he do?"

"He...h-he thinks...he thinks my cat ate his rat."

Harry stared at her for a long minute. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, cracking up so hard his face reddened. Hermione shot to her feet, fresh tears welling in her eyes. She immediately felt like a fool for even thinking about trusting him. "_IT'S NOT FUNNY!"_

"Wait, wait...you were serious?" he chuckled, rubbing moisture from his lids.

"Yes I was serious, you dirty git! I don't even know why I'm talking to you, I really don't- get out of my way!" She tried to shove past him out of the owelry, and hide her embarrassment in her anger, but Quidditch sharpened reflexes caught her wrist and held her fast.

"Let me go!"

"Calm down," Harry soothed, traces of laughter still flickering in his eyes. "I thought you were joking. Is that really all?"

Hermione snatched away from his grip, and he let her go. "Yes. He thinks Crookshanks ate his rat Scabbers." Simmering, she sat down and wrapped her arms around her legs, scrubbing at angry tears. Once that was out, the rest rushed forward and she couldn't stop it.

"He's such an ARSE! He turns on me for the littlest things! I can't say a thing he doesn't like or else he bites my head off! He's AWFUL, I swear, and his temper is the pits, even when I'm trying to help him. He's been complaining about that stupid rat for two years...the thing was probably going to die soon anyways! But he's convinced it was Crookshanks, won't even listen to any other solution! Made a ridiculous scene in front of the whole house, screaming and going on like an IDIOT..."

She hid her face in her hands, coughing and sucking in deep breaths to try and calm herself. She hadn't meant to have a break down in front of a Slytherin, least of all Harry Potter, but at least he wasn't laughing anymore.

Harry was silent, and then he exhaled forcefully. "Well, that's dumb. Seems like he's not the best mate you could have, doesn't it?"

"H-he's my friend, it's just sometimes...he...We...I don't know." she groaned.

"It sounds like he's using you." he told her bluntly. "The whole school knows you're the only reason Weasely's passing his classes."

"He's certainly friendly whenever there's an essay due." Hermione agreed darkly. She closed her eyes and dug her knuckles into her head, trying to chase away the headache pounding in her temples. "I just wish he'd stop exploding at me for everything. It's driving me mad."

"Quit being around him then. Either that or stand up for yourself better."

She glared at him mildly through her fingers. "Is that what you do with Malfoy?"

He rolled his eyes heavily. "Draco's a drama queen and an attention whore. We're friends so long as he can share my limelight. But I don't let him steamroller me."

"It sounds like _he's_ using_ you."_

"Isn't everyone?" he retorted snidely. "Everybody uses someone for something. Tell Weasely he can't use you anymore and unless he wants to flunk out, he'll shape up."

"We're better friends than that," Hermione protested. "But...maybe you're right about that." She rubbed her nose and pondered for a second. "That's a pretty dim view of the world you have." she added quietly.

"True though," he shrugged.

"Maybe. I doubt it. All people aren't that bad."

"Mm." He yawned, then stretched, letting the topic drop, but it was clear he didn't believe her. "Dunno about you, but I'm gonna go back to my dorm."

Hermione sighed and stood up, following him out. "I should probably be going back too." She glanced at him. "This...helped me, believe it or not. Thank you. It was actually sort of kind of you."

"Yeah well. Don't go preaching about it. People might think the hat made a mistake."

"Did it?" she asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs, mostly teasing. He opened his mouth to retort, then closed it and stared at her strangely. "Stop doing that," he snapped, avoiding her eyes.

"Doing what?" she repeated, genuinely confused.

"That...nothing. Never mind." Hands in his pockets, he took off down the hallway. Hermione watched him go, a small smile tugging unknowingly at her mouth.


	4. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**I know you're all going to hate me for this, but...**

**I think I'm going to change the setting in the first chapter to the gang coming back from SUMMER break, not Christmas. *ducks flaming Molotov***

**Listen, before you get pissed and abandon this story. Not much will change other than those few words. The reason I'm doing it is because SO MUCH STUFF happens BEFORE Christmas, like the Hippogriff thing with Malfoy and their first classes with Lupin, and THE GAME. **

**However, the Scabbers thing happened AFTER Christmas. But, since this is an AU, I'll use my magic author powers and make it before. **

**Okay? Okay! Great! **


	5. Drama Queens

**Since I changed the setting to after summer break, the events in this chapter happen on the SECOND WEEK of term, not the first.**

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On the monday morning that marked the second week back from break, after the absolute debacle that was Divination, (she was really starting to hate that woman, and her buggery class) Hermione was chomping at the bit to get to Care of Magical creatures, especially now that Hagrid was teaching.

She'd been to visit him over the weekend, and he'd told her in confidence that he was going to really start lessons today. No more preliminary icebreakers. He was so excited, and it was contagious.

Well, mostly. She and Ron still weren't speaking to one another, but she could tell he was excited too. The sky was a clear, pale grey, and the ground was springy and damp underfoot as they made their way down to his hut.

Also, fate seemed to be treating her life as a big joke now, because it seemed like this year, the powers that be had decided that Gryffindors and Slytherins apparently needed to spend more time around each other and squished them into as many double classes as possible.

So now, she could feel Harry Potter's presence behind her while she walked. He was muttering intently with Malfoy and a shrimpy boy with greasy brown hair and a cruel, clever face.

Hagrid was waiting for them at the door with his big black boarhound, fidgeting like a little kid. "C'mon now you lot, get a move on!" he yelled. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

In a terrifying instant, Hermione thought he was about to lead them into the Forbidden Forest, but her fears were unfounded. He lead them around the trees and into a huge, empty paddock.

"Everyone gather round the fence! That's it, that's it- now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" Cold, drawling- Draco Malfoy. Hermione hated herself for admitting it, but she was thinking the same thing.

After a small moment of confusion, they all had their books stroked and tamed. Malfoy was still grumbling, and Hagrid was looking downcast.

"Oi, can it already." The rebuke was sudden and from an unexpected source- Harry Potter spoke up against his "friend". He sounded tired and stressed...

_Stop analyzing him, crazy girl! Stop paying him any attention, period! _

Despite her mind screaming at her to pay his strangeness no mind, Hermione couldn't stop herself from wondering why he defended Hagrid, and what was on his mind that was causing those dark circles under his eyes.

Hagrid left them for a second to retrieve their lesson. Malfoy was STILL talking, and then again-

"Draco, God, would you shut up?" Harry sighed, making the shrimpy boy next to him giggle nastily. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his lips poked out into a spoiled looking pout.

"Careful Harry, there's a Dementor behind you-"

Lavender's squeal drew their attention away from the budding argument, and the strange comment. Hagrid was walking back to them, leading a dozen of the most beautiful creatures Hermione had ever seen.

"Hippogriffs!" she breathed, unknowingly edging closer to the fence. Hagrid was beaming, and she returned his smile brightly.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud," Hagrid cautioned. "Don't ever insult one, cause it might be the last thing yeh ever do."

Hermione's traitorous eyes darted over her shoulder. Malfoy and the other boy weren't listening, but Harry was paying rapt attention.

Hagrid continued to tell them about Hippogriffs, warning then about etiquette and procedure, and Hermione thought he was doing a great job.

"Right then, who wants ter go first?"

Silence, thick and apprehensive from Gryffindors and Slytherins alike. Hermione swallowed nervously. After a minute or two, she resigned herself to be the sacrifice, seeing as how no one else would. If it was for the sake of Hagrid's first class-

"I'll do it." Harry Potter, again! What was ON with him?

"Good man, Harry!"

Hermione watched in awe as he petted, tamed, and even flew the grey Hippogriff like a pro. The class cheered when he landed, and then Hagrid started them off with their own. She and Ron were paired with the Chesnut. He still wasn't talking to her, and that was fine. Gave her time to think about Harry Potter and his actions.

Dear Merlin, she was obsessed.

She sighed in her throat and patted the Hippogriff distractedly. Most Slytherins couldn't wait for an opportunity to embarrass or shame Hagrid, but Harry had defended him and made his lesson a success.

Almost like he cared for the man...

"This is very easy," Malfoy crowed from across the paddock, where he was stroking the grey one. Hermione turned to look at him, and saw the way his eyes tracked across the area, desperately looking for attention. She pursed her lips and remembered what Harry had told her about him- that they were friends as long as he could share his fame.

"I knew it had to be, if _Harry _could do it...I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?"

A thrill of foreboding shot through Hermione's stomach. She didn't know why or how, but she had a feeling...

"Are you, you great ugly brute?"

Claws-

talons-

a loud, piercing shriek and a bright gout of red-

The entire class shrieked in shock. Malfoy rolled and writhed on the ground, howling that he was dying, oh GOD, MURDER, MUUURDER!

That effectively ended the whole class, and destroyed the happy mood. Hagrid ran him to the castle, with the rest of them following slowly. The mood was divided, with half of them (obvious which half) smoldering for Hagrid's sacking.

Pansy Parkinson was having a conniption. "We should go see if he's okay!" she said shrilly. Hermione winced at the dog-howl worthy pitch and plugged a finger in her ear to stop the ringing. She sighed and narrowed honey brown eyes at her. She didn't like the girl, but she looked like she was about to break down

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Pansy-" she started sympathetically.

"No one asked you, Granger!" Pansy spat. Hermione bristled and crossed her arms tightly.

"Well ex-CUSE me for trying to be nice-"

"Pansy, he'll be fine." Harry cut in. He looked slightly shaken, and he was a shade paler, but it was probably from the initial shock. "Stop screaming before you burst a vessel or something." Pansy rounded on him like lightning.

"Not all of us can get deathly hurt and be alright, you know!"

Harry smiled, but Hermione was close enough to see his fingers clench into a fist at the poorly disguised jab. "He's not deathly hurt, he's being a baby. And Hagrid told him about talking grimy to them."

"Sometimes you're absolutely horrible to him, Harry!" Pansy screamed, furious tears in her eyes. "Draco's nothing but a good friend to you- he's your COUSIN for Merlin's sake-"

"Come again?" Ron yelped, echoing the other Gryffindor's thoughts. He was ignored as Harry rolled his eyes to the highest heavens.

"Jeez, Pansy, I don't think they can hear you in Egypt..."

"I'd SWEAR the hat put you in the wrong house!" With that last parting shriek, Pansy flounced away. After a brief minute and a few threatning glowers at the Gryffindors, the rest of her housemates followed her. Hermione noticed that aside from the scrawny boy, Harry was sort of seperated from the others.

An unexpected surge of pity made her lips pull downward. She had the sudden, insane feeling to want to make him feel better about what had just happened.

Hermione and the rest went the opposite way, back to their common room.

"Looks like even the Slytherin's don't like him," Ron pointed out as they trooped through the portrait hole, suddenly feeling talkative again. "Serves him right...related to the Malfoys...blimey, no wonder Potter's such a git..."

"He's not that bad, Ron," Hermione said before she could think, and the retort was out before she could stop it.

She'd just defended HARRY POTTER, out loud. Oh lord, what was wrong with her...

Ron stared at her as though she had crabs crawling out of her nose, and she swiftly changed the subject before he could start on her.

"Trust Malfoy to ruin Hagrid's lesson though...maybe we should go see him later," she said, momentarily forgetting that she and Ron hated each other. He agreed, and they headed off to dinner.

**«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»**

**(A/N: The end for now, this one was getting a little lengthy for me. They visit Hagrid next, and then more things happen. See that lovely review box? It's empty and very lonely. Make it happy with words.)**


	6. Come Here Often?

**If I owned Harry Potter, he wouldn't have married Ginny, and his son wouldn't have been named ALBUS SEVERUS. I mean, come ON.**

**But I don't, so don't sue me.**

**Track to listen to while reading: All At Once, The Fray)**

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**"~ There are certain people, you just keep coming back to...she's right in front of you, you begin to wonder, could you find a better one...~"**

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A few hours later, they stopped pretending to do their homework and decided to visit Hagrid. Neville tagged along as usual, and they took the front doors to avoid the Dementors.

"There's a light on in the window," Neville pointed out as they walked across the slippery grass. There was sweat beading on his pudgy brow, making it obvious how nervous he was to be out so late. "I hope we don't get in trouble for coming down here..."

"We're fine, Neville." Ron said, though he didn't sound so sure of himself. "Hagrid's a teacher now."

There was indeed a light in the window, and as they grew closer to the door, they could hear voices coming from inside.

"He sounds like he's with somebody." Neville whispered. Ron ignored him and pounded on the heavy wood. "Hagrid, it's us!"

There was a moment of silence, and shuffling sounds. "Hagrid, please let us in." Hermione pleaded.

"We got special permission to come see you!"

"No we-"

"SSHH! Hagrid, come on, open up."

After another minute or two, Hagrid's voice growled out. "C'min." He sounded awful, and Hermione's heart broke at that one word. Anger at Malfoy bubbled up all over again. She was talking before Ron had finished pushing open the door.

"Hagrid, it'll be alright, please don't feel...bad..." The words died in her mouth, and fell flat on the wooden floor as her tongue grew leaden in shock. For an honest minute, she thought she was hallucinating-there was just no way-

Harry Potter looked up from the cup in his hands and flashed her a cocky smirk, obviously enjoying her surprise. "Hello, _Hermione."_

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds, trying to recover the moisture and wit she needed to speak. What in the HELL was Harry Potter doing at Hagrid's?! It didn't compute, it didn't make any sense.

He was stalking her, there was no other explanation. This had to be some sort of cruel Slytherin prank or something-

Ron came back to his senses quicker than she did. "What the BLAZES are you doing here, Potter?!" the ginger squawked. Harry's smirk turned into a small sneer of genuine dislike.

"Well right now I'm sitting." he said slowly. "And I'm also talking, and blinking, and-"

"You know what-!"

"That's enough there you two," Hagrid grumbled loudly, cutting across the argument. "Harry, er...yeh might want ter get goin', s'gettin' late and all. Don't want Snape ter be throwin' a fit."

Harry, shockingly, nodded and stood, giving Fang a ruffle on the ears. He strode past them without another word, banging shoulders with Ron on the way out. Hermione's ears burned, and she felt more than saw the teasing glance he shot at her.

Oh yes, this had to STOP.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Ron exploded. "Hagrid, what was THAT prat doing here?!"

"Never yeh mind," Hagrid mumbled. He sat back down at his table and pulled his pewter tankard closer to take a large swig. He sat it back down with a clunk and tried to bring them into focus. "'Spect it's a new record," he said thickly. "Don't reckon they've ever had a teacher that lasted on'y a day before."

All thoughts (or most, at least) of Harry Potter flew from Hermione's mind. "You haven't been fired, Hagrid?" she exclaimed. Dumbledore wouldn't be that blind, would he?

"Not yet," he said miserably, taking another big gulp. "'S'only a matter of time, i'n'it, after Malfoy...s'all my fault..."

"It was _Malfoy's_ fault, Hagrid," Hermione said fiercely. "We're witnesses. He wasn't listening when you warned us about insulting them. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."

"Yeah, Hagrid, we'll back you up!" Neville piped.

They spent a few more minutes there, reassuring their friend with promises and hearty insults against Malfoy, until he no longer looked seconds away from drowning himself in his tankard. Hagrid sent them back to the castle once he'd sobered up.

The walk back up the lawns was quiet and solemn, each one of them locked in their own thoughts, mostly worries about Hagrid.

Dew flew out of the grass like shining insects and stuck to their ankles, cold and wet. Hermione stared at the whispy tendrils under her feet, black and soft in the dark.

Black like unruly hair over green eyes...

_Oh, Merlin..._

"Hermione." Ron's voice pulled her out of her head. She turned to look at him, and even in the dark she could see the deep frown on his freckled face.

"What?"

"Potter..." Her stomach turned a flip flop, and then squeezed painfully. She reached up to yank on a brown curl, grateful for the shadows that hid her flaming cheeks. "W-what about him?"

"He called you Hermione. Like...like he knew you or something." Ron muttered.

Her quick mind seized, and swiftly descended into panic mode. She couldn't let Ron think that anything was going on between her and Harry Potter, because there wasn't.

Was there?

_No, there isn't!_ _He's a Slytherin! I barely know him!_

_"_Hermione!"

"How should I know?" she snapped. "They say he's crazy don't they? Maybe he is."

Deep down though, she knew that whatever Harry Potter was, it wasn't crazy. Ron scowled, but let the conversation drop.

When they reached the front hall, Hermione's stomach was still churning, and a nasty headache was thrumming in the back of her skull. She broke away from them and headed in the opposite direction from the common room.

"Hermione?"

"Oi, where are you going?"

"Bathroom..." she groaned, nearly sprinting for the girls toilet. Inside, she braced her palms on the counter and rested her forehead on the cold mirror. She felt hot and feverish, and the pain in her head was making her nauseous.

"Ooooh...you look _dreadful."_ cooed a delightedly morose voice behind her. Hermione raised her eyes to the mirror, and watched in the glass as Moaning Myrtle rose slowly from the stall directly behind her, piggy eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing in here? Your bathroom is downstairs." Hermione deadpanned. Myrtle huffed airlessly. "I don't have to stay there, you know. I can go where I please."

"Hurrah for you," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and hoping the ghost would leave her alone. Of course, she didn't.

"You look like you're about to faint," she said happily. "What happened?" She drifted closer to her face and peered at her, and Hermione half heartedly tried to swat her away. "Buzz off Myrtle, please."

"Is it a boooooy?" It was so unexpected, it made her jump. Her hand slipped off the counter, and she banged her elbow on the edge of the sink- HARD.

"OWCH!"

"I knew it!" Myrtle crowed, turning a spin in midair. "Nothing makes you feel more AWFUL than being in love..."

"I'm not in love!" Hermione gasped, tearing up from the pain radiating down her arm. "I-I barely know him!"

"So it is a boy," the pearly ghost giggled horribly. "Oh, I remember before I died, when I loved Micheal Hornby...every time he looked at me, I wanted to throw up..."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said, turning on her heel and exiting the bathroom with Myrtle's taunts following her out.

Love...her, Hermione Granger, in love with Harry Potter? It was the most absurd thing to ever be said. OTHER than the most obvious fact that they were in two completely different houses (that hated each other, by the way,) they'd only spoken what, twice? Three times? She liked to think herself smarter than that, thank you very much.

Besides, he was...he was cold, and distant and...and...

And mysterious...and tortured...and different...intriguing. Merlin.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this, _Hermione_. People might talk." She rounded the corner, and there he was, almost like her thoughts had conjured him out of the air. She was convinced, life hated her.

Hermione slowed her steps to avoid crashing into him. Harry stopped too, and they stared at each other a few feet apart, him smirking, her blank. In that instant, she hated him. Her world had been so simple and easy, and then he'd come in and confused everything, making her feel like she was going crazy.

"Are you following me?" she asked wearily. Harry snorted. "Course not. I needed to talk to Proffesor Flitwick-"

"No!" she said, cutting him off. "I don't mean right now. I mean in general! Why where you at Hagrid's? Why can't I get away from you? Is it some sort of Slytherin joke; 'mess with the know it all mudblood, make her think she's going mad'-"

"Firstly," Harry hissed, eyes flashing, "don't call yourself that ever again."

"What do you care?" she retorted, aware that she sounded slightly frantic and not caring. She was going out of her mind with this...little game he was playing.

"Because my mother was a muggleborn, and it makes me sick every time I have to hear my "friends" say it. That a good enough reason for you?" he spat coldly. The ice in his tone brought her up short, and he continued.

"Secondly, I was at Hagrid's because he's the one that rescued me from my Aunt and Uncle's two years ago and he's just as much my friend as he is yours, not that it's any of your business. And I could ask you the same thing!"

Hermione was dumbfounded. "What do you mean?!"

"YOU'RE following ME! Every time I turn around, you're right there. You were in the Owelry when you don't even have a bird, stole my book in the library, and you're in every one of my classes now. Theo told me you kept looking at me during Care of Magical Creatures." he clarified, running an angry hand through his ebony hair. For a small second, she could see his scar on his forehead before it was covered again.

"So now what, Granger?"

"I...I..." She struggled to speak, pinned into silence by his burning emerald orbs. "I th-thought you were messing with me!"

"Well I'm not!"

They stood there in silence for a while, breathing hard with red faces, ashamed in their own ways.

Hermione felt like the biggest fool in the country. Slowly, she realized that she had just gotten into a screaming match with him over nothing at all. She exhaled and closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose with the heel of her hand.

"...We're very stupid, aren't we?"

"Speak for yourself," Harry muttered. But then he sighed too, and a rosy flush dusted his cheeks. "I thought you were...I dunno, monitoring me or something. Like maybe the other Gryffindors put you up to it..."

"Not at all," she said. She sighed again, and started to turn away, but his voice stopped her.

"I really didn't mind talking to you, you know..."

"W-why?"

Harry shrugged, tugging on his loose green tie. "Dunno. Maybe because you listen? Or because I know you won't go back to anybody in my house with it?"

"I..."

Yet another awkward silence. This was getting nowhere.

Hermione crossed her arms tightly under her chest, trying to shield herself from the weirdness. "Listen...this...this isn't working. This," she waved her hand, gesturing to the tense atmosphere.

"So what do you want to do, then?" He asked, still not meeting her eyes. Hermione wet her lips. When she spoke the words were halting and nervous, and she couldn't believe they were actually coming out of her mouth.

"M-maybe we could...we could try to be...friends? Just friends."

He was shaking his head before she was finished, but he didn't look angry, only sad. "They'd never let that happen and you know it. We'd be murdered."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying we skip through the corridors carrying each others books and singing show tunes," she snarked. "But maybe...when THEY'RE around, we can be a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. But when it's like this, just us, we can be Harry and Hermione."

"Just Harry..." he mused, a small smile creeping onto his face. Not a smirk- a genuine smile. "Huh. Alright."

Hermione smiled then, too. He had a very nice smile, when it was real.

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**(A/N: Shhh, listen closely. It's the review box, and its crying because it's empty. Make it happy again with comments XD)**


	7. Staring Is Rude

**Track to listen to while reading: Animal, Neon Trees.**

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_**~ Here we go again, I kinda wanna be more than friends...~**_

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Things were shockingly different after that.

That is to say, it wasn't immediate, or obvious. Nothing spectacularly amazing happened after that night- Harry didn't renounce the Slytherins and become the patron of kindness and bi house interaction, and Hermione didn't go around preaching about the hidden niceness in Slytherins and how they were all just misunderstood.

Not even close. The stupid squabbles still broke out, the dumb pranks were still played. To the rest of Hogwarts, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger continued to be two seperate people in two separate houses, completely unconcerned with each other except for the few unfortunate times their paths crossed.

He still ran with Malfoy and the other boy, who she learned was named Theodore Knott, and occasionally a girl named Daphne Greengrass who had a nasty reputation of stealing everything not nailed down.

Hermione saw that those four were the Slytherin counterpart of her, Ron, and Neville, with a few major differences. Knott and Greengrass were troublemakers to the core, Malfoy was his sniveling self, and in public, Harry acted just like them.

When Malfoy picked fights with Gryffindors, specifically Ron, he joined in just like normal, and they'd respond in kind. To the school, they hated each other more than ever- Hermione would curse him spectacularly, and he'd spew venom with fresh malice.

When Fred and George caught Malfoy unawares one day and died his head a flaming red, Harry vowed revenge along with his crew, and when they retaliated by charming Ron's freckles to spell out a VERY unsavoury word, Hermione sympathized while he blew his top, shaking her head at those AWFUL gits.

But afterwards, when the sun went down and they met in one of their secret places, either the alcove in the library or the Owelry, they'd both laugh until their sides ached and tears streamed down their faces.

It was an act, a game, and one of the most fun Hermione had ever played.

When they weren't pretending to be enemies, it was pleasant and different, in a nice way. At first after they called a truce, it was a bit awkward and stiff, mostly just them doing homework and occasionally talking. But after a while, they started REALLY talking, which turned into trading jokes and insults.

Harry Potter had a tongue like a blade and a sharp, cynical, sarcastic attitude, but Hermione was more than witty enough to keep up with him. Being raised by muggles like her, they had more in common than she thought. He understood her references and didn't look at her like an alien when she said Twizzlers were her favourite candy.

He didn't like to talk about himself very much though, and that was a surprise to her. She was smart enough to stay away from the topic of his parents and his Aunt and Uncle because those were obviously painful, and she sensed that his relationship to the Malfoy's was complicated at best, so she mostly left that one alone as well. Except...

"Are you really related to the Malfoys?" she asked him one night, while they both petted Hedwig by the wide Owelry window. His smile faded slightly, and he'd shrugged quickly. "Yeah, I guess."

"How, if you don't mind?"

"All the pureblood families are related somehow and someway." he explained. "Dad was a pureblood. Some Potter a billion years ago married a Malfoy, or a Black, or something." He drew a finger down Hedwig's wing. "It's brain melting, trying to track it all. Technically he's a fourth cousin twice removed, or...I dunno."

"Black?" she squeaked, two octaves higher than normal. Harry nodded, eyes temporarily shaded behind his thick bangs. "Yeah...Black." He was quiet for a minute, and then he'd looked up at. "Actually...I need a favor from you."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow and drew her leg underneath her. "What?"

"You know about the Dementors, and how they're here for Sirius Black." he said severely. "But nobody will tell me about him, even though they're all convinced he's coming here to knock me off. I need your help to look up stuff about him."

Hermione slowly looked away, considering. "I mean...they said he was a servant for the...for You-Know-Who..."

"It's something more than that," he said coldly, bristled with frustration. "I'm tired of being in the dark. Draco's having a field day, he knows but he won't tell me. You're smart- you can help me figure it out."

"Harry-"

"Please?"

Something...odd, happened then. She turned to look at him again, and the way the sun was setting outside cast dusky orange and purple shadows across his cheekbones, turning his eyelashes iridescent and highlighting the brightness in his irises, making them glow like Lumos.

He looked...attractive?

'_Hot,' _hissed a slimy, traitorous voice in her brain.

NO!

"Hermione?"

She blinked- he was still waiting for an answer.

"S-sure...alright, I'll help you."

"Brilliant." he smirked, closing his eyes and freeing her from his stare to lean his head back against the stone wall. Hermione pressed a hand to her heart, which had decided to start racing without her permission, and breathed deeply to untwist the knot that her stomach had tied itself in that she hadn't noticed.

* * *

"Weasely, cut up Malfoy's roots for him." Snape ordered.

They were in the middle of making a Shrinking Solution, and in another double class with the Slytherins. Malfoy finally decided to drag himself out of the hospital wing, and he'd staggered into the dungeons with the attitude of a wounded war veteran.

Pansy was beside herself, like he'd had his arm actually taken off, and it was driving Hermione up the wall. Apparently he'd decided to be a bigger git today than usual, setting up his station right next to Ron and Hermione and forcing them to do his work.

"Proffesor, Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Ron was seconds away from going berserk. Hermione glanced over her shoulder across the classroom, and saw a pair of green eyes rolling in their sockets. Behind his cauldron, Harry pressed a hand to his head and pretended to swoon. Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing and turned back to her potion, just in time for Snape to order her to skin Malfoy's shrivelfig.

Acid green, acid green...green...

She felt like she had a fist in her stomach, and her lungs were tight. She chalked it up to the fumes from the potion...it had to be, right?

Malfoy was hissing something to Ron, and the tall ginger's face was getting redder and redder with every passing second. Hermione caught the words "Hagrid, injury, father, fired", and put the rest together by herself. Her fingers shook angrily, and the back of her neck reddened and itched. Malfoy was nothing but a foul, evil little-...

Twenty minutes and five points from Gryffindor later, Neville's toad was unpoisoned and Hermione was turning back her Time Turner, heading for Rune Studies.

While she was caught in the vortex, watching past moments fly by, she saw herself and Harry Potter more than she expected. Every time her eyes caught on his face, those strange feelings stirred in her, the same ones from that night in the Owelry.

A warm shiver crawled down her spine, and a slight tingle started up between her thighs. It was no secret that Harry Potter wasn't unattractive- far from it. It was just...she desperately didn't want to notice, and the next thing she knew she'd be another witless, simpering fan girl. It would NEVER come to that.

Besides, they were just barely friends, and she didn't NOT need THAT getting in the way.

Despite keeping that thought firmly in the front of her mind during her next two classes, her fingers prickled with the phantom sensation of being smoothed through messy black locks, and every time she licked her mouth, a tiny part of her brain replaced it with the feel of slightly chapped lips on her own, making her squirm.

Afterwards, for the first time in her life, Hermione realized that she couldn't remember a thing from her class.


	8. Some Gratitude YOU have

**And now, for some shameless advertising! Check out my other HarMione fic Attention To Detail, and be brave and leave a drabble request!**

**I own nothing but a Slytherin jersey and some Marauder socks.**

**Track to listen to while reading: Say, John Mayer.**

* * *

**"~Walking like a one man army, fighting with the shadows in your head, living up the same old moment, knowing you'd be better off instead...if you could only...~"**

* * *

The weeks dragged on, and the classes at Hogwarts with them. Early September turned into October. The weather cooled down quick, promising a brutal winter creeping up on them.

The classes themselves were a mix of good and bad. After the ruining it took at the hands of Malfoy, Care of Magical Creatures was as good as dead. They spent hours after hours gazing at some kind of slimy worm creatures. Potions was a nightmare as usual, and Divination was nearly as horrible. Hermione hated the fact that they were wasting time and weren't really LEARNING anything, and honestly, Trelawney irritated her.

The only good thing about that class was when they had it with the Slytherins. Harry was Trelawney's favourite target for her morose predictions, and he had as little patience for her as Hermione did. She was convinced she was going to end up cross eyed from trying not to die laughing at him and his antics day to day.

Hermione was an eyelash away from being run totally ragged, with the Time Turner classes and her usual schedule. Even still, she found time to join a Book Club, made up of mostly Ravenclaws and a few other studious Gryffindors.

She and Harry stopped seeing each other as frequently, partly because she was so busy and also partly because the Quidditch season was about to start, and as the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team most of his time was spent practicing.

And their captain, a trollish seventh year named Marcus Flint, was absolutely relentless. Someone walking by the windows that looked out onto the pitch could hear him screaming at his team, and whenever Hermione and Harry were able to scrape a moment, he was always filthy, freezing and stiff.

Hermione wasn't really a Quidditch person, but the sport was one of the only topics Harry really liked to talk about and she tried to pretend like she understood, even though when he got into the positions and plays and rules she got HOPELESSLY lost.

Even still, she continued helping him with his reasearch of Sirius Black like she promised, pouring through dusty Ministry books in the library and old arrest records. It was slow going though, and tedious.

By the time the first Hogsmeade trip rolled around, Hermione was sorely in need of a break.

**«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»**

On the day before the visit, Herbology let out a few minutes early, so Hermione arrived a bit too promptly to Transfiguration. The Slytherins were just leaving as she walked in, and she ignored Malfoy's nasty look as she passed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry talking with McGonagall by her desk.

She didn't mean to eavesdrop, she really didn't.

"But Proffesor-"

"I'm sorry Potter, but the rules are clear. No parent or guardian signature, no visit to the village."

Hermione stared down at her desk, making a conscious effort not to look. From his tone, she thought Harry sounded angry, and a bit desperate.

"It's not my responsibility if you forgot to have your Aunt and Uncle sign for you, Potter."

"That's not how it happened! They wouldn't have done it anyway and you know I didn't go to the Malfoy's after I left, Proffessor _please_-"

"I'm sorry Potter, but that's my final word."

The only sound after that was the door being kicked closed. Hermione literally felt the heat of his anger on the side of her face as he stormed past her and out. She peeked up once he was gone in time to see McGonagall pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh, but by that time the other Gryffindors were piling into the room.

* * *

Hermione didn't see him for the entire rest of the day or most of the next morning. Eventually, everyone was rounded up for the visit to the village, and after a frisking by Filch, she was headed out the front doors.

The wind was biting and sharp, tossing her brown curls around her head, and the sun was high and bright in the pale blue sky. Malfoy crowed happily behind them, completely unaffected by the fact that his "best friend" was missing from their group.

Ron and Neville were bouncing with excitement, and she tried not to let it show how much the conversation she'd witnessed affected her. She felt sorry for Harry, and slightly guilty. McGonagall could have shown a bit more understanding for his situation...

"Oi, Hermione, what are you so down for?" Ron asked, nudging her in the shoulder. "This is great! We finally get to go to Hogsmeade and see what's down there! Fred and George can't rub it in my face anymore!"

Neville nodded enthusiastically, and Hermione cracked a smile for their benefit. "Right, right, course."

They got to the village, and it was everything that everyone had promised. Hermione, who had never seen a place where wizards lived together, was blown away. It was absolutely amazing- the shops, the post office, the pubs.

Ron dragged her into Honeydukes to oogle the sweets. Her parents were dentists and it really wasn't her thing, but even she had to admit that the candy was fantastic. While she weighed a HUGE bar of snow white chocolate in her hands, her guilt came back to attack her, and her heart sank as she thought of her friend sitting in the castle, alone and angry.

Because he was her friend, right? They were at that level now, yes? She liked to think so. On a sympathetic impulse, she bought the chocolate and tucked it into her bag before Ron and Neville pulled her out and into Zonko's.

**«»**

Hours later when they returned, it was a few minutes before the Halloween feast. Hermione stored most of her bags in her dorm and wrapped her sweater tightly around her arm, then raced for the portait hole, ignoring Ron calling her back.

After her, Neville's and Ron's adventure during second year with the Chamber of Secrets incidents, she remembered the way to the Slytherin common room, and that's where she was headed. (She still hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell Harry that she and Ron had actually interrogated him and Malfoy as Crabbe and Goyle using Polyjuice potion, when everyone had thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin.)

Feeling quite daring, she ducked behind a pillar right at the mouth of the stairs that led down into the dungeon, hidden from the Slytherins that were going to the Great Hall. She was waiting all of five minutes before she heard his voice (damn her stomach, and damn his smooth tone!)

She peeked her head out and hissed a quick _psst!_ before hiding again, but she saw his familiar green irises dart to her spot and back, and heard him say-

"Er, hold on Daph, I think I forgot my wand. Go on ahead."

Greengrass and Knott trooped forward, and once they were out of sight, Harry dashed behind the pillar. "What are you DOING down here?" he hissed, looking annoyed.

"I have something for you," Hermione whispered, but he cut her off with a shake of his head. "Not here. Come on."

He dragged her from behind the pillar and ushered her into an unused classroom, closing the door behind them. Once it was locked, his shoulders relaxed. He dragged a hand backwards through his hair and straightened his glasses.

"The sixth and seventh years were still in the common room- they like to show up late." he explained, once more speaking in a normal tone. He gave her a strange glance and frowned a little. "How did you even get down here?"

Hermione unwrapped her sweater and shoved the chocolate at him, fighting not to blush and ignoring the question. "Here," she said abruptly, "I, uhm...I got this. For you, in the village. Because you weren't there." He cocked an eyebrow, and she immediately felt stupid.

"Why?"

She rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip. He might not be used to people giving him things, but honestly, she wasn't trying to poison him.

"You want it or not?"

He reached for it, then hesitated and pulled his fingers back slightly, suspicion glinting in his eyes.

"What?"

"My...my cousin would sometimes...nothing."

"Malfoy?"

"No. Forget it." He grabbed the bar after a small second and carefully unwrapped it, scrutinizing it before taking a bite. His lashes fluttered, and he made a sound of appreciation. Hermione smirked, and he turned away a bit.

"...Pretty good. Er...thanks..."

"That sounded almost painful." Hermione huffed, and he scowled at her. "Whatever."

"You..."

"What?"

"You got something in your hair," he informed her. She frowned and gave her head a shake. "Is it gone?"

"No. Here-" To her shock, he quickly reached over and pulled the offending item out of her curls. His hands were cold, and she told herself that was why she shivered. It was an owl feather, probably from the Hogsmeade post office.

He ate the rest of the bar in silence, and Hermione tried not to notice the way his pink tongue would poke out and lick melting chocolate from around his full lips, even though her guts gave a heated lurch every time she caught the movements.

She also didn't notice how they were alone, together, in a quiet, empty room in the dungeons. Somehow, it was different than in the library or the Owelry- closer, more intimate.

When he was finished, he tossed the paper in the bin and wiped his hands on his pants. Green eyes met brown briefly, and then they both looked away, aware of the awkward atmosphere.

"Um...you know..."

"Y-yeah...it's fine."

"Mmhm. We should...we should go."

"Yeah," Hermione breathed, but made no move towards the door. "Ron'll be wondering where I went."

Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could get a good look. "Is he your boyfriend or something?" Harry sneered suddenly, making her jump.

"No! Where in the hell did you come up with that?" she yelped, incredulous. He bristled, but laughed sharply."You're always hanging off his arm, even though he treats you like dirt. I was just wondering."

"Well don't." she snapped, crossing her arms. If she didn't know any better she'd have thought he was jealous, but that was ridiculous. His throat worked for a minute, then he shrugged. "Fine. Not like I care."

"Good."she said coldly. Confused, and strangely hurt, she pushed herself up and stalked to the door. "Goodbye, Potter." It was torture not to look back as she walked out.

* * *

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	9. Midnight Stroll

**I own Harry Potter!...Clothing. Cause I'm broke.**

* * *

Hermione was in a foul mood during the feast, and that was was a hard thing to do. She talked less than usual (which wasn't much anyways) and made sure that she sat with her back facing the Slytherin table, even though doing so was just begging for someone to flick something into her hair. Ron and Neville quizzed her on where she'd been, but she wouldn't tell.

She shovelled sweet potato into her mouth angrily, swinging her leg back and forth unknowingly. She had no idea where that random spike of Git-ness had come from, or why. Harry knew she was friends with Ron, that was all.

And even if it wasn't, what did it matter to him?! She didn't interrogate him about those twittering airheads always hanging off his arm. They hadn't been "friends" long enough for that, not even close. Maybe she should have expected it though. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.

And right after she bought him something, too...the nerve-!

"OUCH! Hermione!" Ron yelped, dropping his fork and grabbing for his leg. Hermione had kicked him hard without noticing. She grimaced. "Oh, Ron, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry."

He grumbled, rubbing his knee and peering at her. "What's got you so hot and bothered then? Where'd you run off to after Hogsmeade?"

Hermione raised and dropped a shoulder. "Nowhere." And she wouldn't be doing it anymore, that was for sure.

When the feast was over, she followed the rest back up to the portait hole, stiff and snooty to hide the lingering hurt.

* * *

The name Harry Potter became synonymous with the invisible man. Hermione didn't acknowledge his presence at all, and she didn't try to meet with him after hours. It was especially hard to ignore him in Lupin's class, as by pure concidence the seating roster put them directly next to each other, but she managed it.

She went back to spending most of her time with Ron and Neville, but it was different than before.

She noticed how different they were from Harry, even started comparing them. He was so...sharp, and witty, and they just weren't. Ron's life revolved around the Quidditch brackets and his constant spats with the Slytherins, and though Neville was sweet and a good listener, sometimes he just couldn't keep up.

Although she'd never admit it, she missed his sarcasm and his cynicism. The people in her book club were _book_ smart, but he was smart in a different way. Their small falling out was an unhappy spot in her mind, but she was much to proud to apologize first, never mind the fact that she wasn't in the wrong to begin with.

Her interest about Sirius Black had been peaked though, and she continued to research him when she could. It was difficult, separating myth and rumours from actual fact, but it was fascinating.

That lasted for all of two weeks, and then Harry Potter and the entire Slytherin house became impossible to ignore.

* * *

"Wonder what all that's about," Neville commented, as they were coming back from a late dinner. Ron was blabbering about the Tornados wins and losses, and Hermione was struggling to appear interested. They hadn't noticed the huge commotion in the hallway, and the blockage of muttering, excited students at the stairway.

Most of the chaos was at the foot of the stairs that led to the dungeons. As they drew closer, the noise got louder. An uneasy, dreadful feeling bubbled in Hermione's heart, and her footsteps quickened. There was only one reason Hogwarts students got excited like this- something awful had happened.

"Mione? Hermione, wait!"

She was sprinting by now, shoving past people, the horrible feeling in her stomach increasing with each step. By the time she broke through the crowd, she was facing the stretch of wall that was the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Or used to be.

The wall had been attacked, shattered by multiple curses and hexes that had burned the stone and put scorch marks on the damp surface. Large chunks of debris littered the floor and surrounding hallway, still steaming with violent magic. It looked like magical barriers had held up, BARELY, because inside the threshold the common room was undisturbed. The dumbfounded Slytherins milled around, stunned. Malfoy, Knott, and Pansy were near the front of the crowd, shellshocked.

Her heart dropped into her stomach, then clenched painfully as something akin to fear washed over her. There was one person she did not see. She peered over and around, looking, looking...

Where was he?

"Move aside, move aside there!"

The bodies parted like the red sea as the trio of Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, and Snape strode forward, grim and tense. The lines around the Gryffindor head of houses mouth had never looked so tight, and Snape was downright murderous with a vein popping in his sallow cheek.

"Potter!" Mcgonagall barked loudly over the din, searching them all from her tall thin height. "Potter! Where is Potter?"

"Mr Malfoy," Snape grunted. "Where is Potter?"

"I-I..."

"Here."

She'd deny it later, but a wave of relief broke over Hermione as she saw a dark head of hair shoving its way to the front. A shaky exhale tumbled past her lips, and she slowly uncurled her hands, prying her fingernails out of her palms.

"Potter, are you...alright?" Mcgonagall asked briskly. Her hands swayed strangely by her side, as if she wanted to touch him, but she didn't dare.

Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" This time, the gentle question didn't come from Mcgonagall or Snape, but from Dumbledore himself. Harry turned to face him slowly, and every muscle in his back tightened as his expression flattened into practiced blankness. His jaw twitched, as though he was biting down on his words.

"Positive."

"HIM!? What about the REST OF US!?" Malfoy shrieked, finally losing it. The chatter started up again, loud and frantic.

"Did anyone see what happened here?" Snape sneered.

"It was Locke! He's always blowing shit up!"

"Screw you, it wasn't me!"

"Bet it was the Gryffindors!"

"IT'S SIRIUS BLACK!" one boy howled. "He's coming to get Potter and he'll kill us all to do it!"

The panic reached a new height as every eye found Harry, and his cheeks flamed red. "Stuff it, Pucey!" he snarled.

"YOU'RE GONNA GET US ALL KILLED POTTER! Just wait and see!"

As if all that wasn't enough, Peeves the Poltergeist finally decided show himself by drifting out of the wall, drawn to the fear and chaos and cackling madly. "Oh, what FUN! What wonderful, terrible, awful fun! You'll never find him, you know."

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked calmly. Peeve's grin faded a little- he didn't dare insult the Headmaster. He adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"The person who did this, Your Headship sir. He's long gone, oh yes he is. He was at it for an hour at least, sir, screaming and carrying on." He pantomimed attacking the wall, swinging an invisible wand wildly. _"I have to see him! I have to see him!"_ He collapsed into hysterical laughter, turning himself upside down in midair with the force of his giggles.

"Yes Peeves, but do you know who it WAS?"

"Oh, oh...ah, excuse me, Professorhead, sir," Peeves chuckled, gazing at Dumbledore wickedly from between his legs. "Allow Peevesy his little laugh, sir. Yes, I know him. Quite the mad fellow he is, and quite the temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

There was no containing the frenzy after that. The noise was explosive. Several people took off running right then and there, with a cackling Peeves zooming after them the whole way.

"I KNEW IT!"

"We're all doomed!"

"I TOLD you it was Potter! Toss him!"

Mcgonagall shot of several loud sparks from her wand. "THAT IS ENOUGH! Potter, you come with me. The rest of you, get back to your common rooms immediately and find your heads of houses, then report to the great hall! Slytherins, follow Professor Snape."

In the midst of the chaos, Hermione saw Harry grab Theodore Knott tightly by the arm and hiss something in his ear. The smaller boy started to protest, but Harry gave him a hard shake and growled something else. He let him go as Mcgonagall reached for his shoulder and steered him down the hall, flanked by Dumbledore, and Hermione watched as Knott slunk back through the ruined entrance to the common room unnoticed.

Snape was trying to corral the frenetic Slytherins. "All those in my house, follow me to the Great Hall. The rest of you had better make yourselves scarce before I take fifty points from each of you!"

Faced with that threat, they scattered like roaches, and none but Hermione noticed Knott creeping back into the hall with a noticeable bulge beneath his robes.

* * *

Peeves had spoken the truth. The castlewide search for the alleged Sirius Black turned up nothing, but the students were still forced to sleep in the Great Hall for the remainder of the night.

Ron, Hermione and Neville set up their sleeping bags a little ways away from the others. The two boys whispered about it feverishly while Hermione kept her silence, brain once again in hyperdrive.

Sirius Black simply COULDN'T have been in Hogwarts. It just wasn't possible. With all the extra precautions- dementors, magical wards, protection spells...

And...and if it had been Black...there was only one reason why he would attack the Slytherin common room, and no one else's. Hermione shuddered at the implication of that. Pucey was right...it all boiled down to Harry.

They argued and discussed until curfew was called and the candles were extinguished. Silence fell over the entire hall, but it was obviously not the silence of sleeping people. Excitement and fear still buzzed in the air, and the thoughts could almost literally be heard turning in people's heads.

Hermione did not sleep, even when Ron was snoring loudly by her ear and Neville was mumbling about Puffskeins in his slumber. She couldn't turn off her mind, and found herself staring at the enchanted starry sky above her head. She was exhausted, but her concern for her school and her friends would not let her rest. She kept seeing Harry being dragged away by Mcgonagall, and she could feel Black's presence like a hot breath on her neck.

It was around three in the morning, just when she was drifting off, that a rustle of movement roused her. It sounded like someone was trying to carefully edge their way over and around the carpet of bodies, and it was getting steadily and slowly closer.

Hermione gripped her sleeping bag tightly between white knuckled fists, gasping out tight pants from behind clenched teeth. Her eyes were frozen shut and her muscles were locked. As the sounds grew nearer, she debated waking up Ron, but what good would come of that, even if she did manage to shake him awake in time? He was more likely to scream and run.

Closer now...she inhaled deeply and reached for her wand. If it was Black...she might have only a second to catch him off guard.

They were right on top of her. She had to act, and now.

"_Stupef-"_

A cold, thin hand clamped down on her lips, but before she could scream bloody murder a whispered gasp froze the sound in her throat.

"_Granger!"_

Pure confusion, blood and adrenaline still rushing hot through her veins, _how did a murderous criminal know her name?_

Then-

"_Potter?!"_

Hermione glared at the boy straddling her sleeping bag and gazing down at her. His knees were on either side of her hips, and his hands were a few inches above her shoulders (she would find time to be embarrassed about that later.) The stars from the ceiling revealed her late night "attacker", reflecting glitteringly off his glasses and midnight hair, and his cocky smirk.

_"Merlin, Granger, did you just try and hex me?"_

_"I thought you were Black,"_ she hissed, sitting up and shoving him away, grateful for the dark that hid the rising colour on her face. "_What are you doing here?"_

_"I need your help." _he said.

"_What are you ON?!"_ she snapped. Ron snorted thickly next to her, and they froze for a moment. Eventually he settled back into silence. Hermione turned back to glare at Harry. "D_o you know how late it is? The teachers are coming back any second!"_

_"Just shut up and follow me!" _Without so much as a by your leave, he grabbed her arms and hauled her upright, ignoring her attempts to pull away. She couldn't really struggle, because that would risk waking up the entire hall and getting in trouble. And from the look on his face he was well aware of that.

So she had no choice but to let him sneak her out, fuming all the while. She hadn't forgotten his ass moment, or that she was still angry at him for it.

After a close scrape with a slumbering, twitchy Percy, they made it into the corridor. Hermione rounded on him, ready to burst, but he clamped his hand down over her mouth once again and put his mouth right up to the side of her head.

_"Keep it quiet._" he murmured. The feeling of his lips brushing her hair paralyzed her, and she felt him smile against her ear. _"Good girl. Now come on_."

Her body followed him without her mind knowing why, still stuck in the last two seconds of time.

_That felt almost like... A kiss..._

_A kiss?! Are you **INSANE!? **Am **I **insane?!_

Harry Potter definitely was, regardless. Ron was right- the boy was a class A nutter.

Eugh. Ron being right. Her life was taking a turn for the gutter.

Harry led her to some random corridor and yanked her to a stop. "Here," he breathed. He started to let go of her wrist, then leveled a glare at her. "Don't run."

Hermione snorted. "Please. You're not worth a suspension." They swapped chilly looks for a second, and then he smiled bitterly. "Still pissy are you?"

"Get on with it Potter, or I'm getting a prefect." Suspension be damned. She didn't even know why she was indulging him now.

He rolled his eyes, but turned away and walked toward a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw tucked into a shallow alcove in the wall. He started to edge behind it, cramming his hands into the space behind the bronze figure. He looked like he was searching for something, lips twisted in concentration.

Hermione crossed her arms and shivered. This was so stupid. They could get caught by a ghost, or a teacher... She tried to act uninterested, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed finally.

"I told him to put it here... If he screwed me I'll rip his- here." His scowl was replaced by a triumphant grin, and new pulled something long and shimmering out from behind the statue.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she moved forward to get a closer look despite herself. "What... What is..."

"Watch and I'll show you," he smirked. He unrolled it completely, revealing it to be a large cloak. Nonchalantly, he threw it around his shoulders... And promptly disappeared.

Hermione's jaw hit the ground. Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and she let out a choked little gurgle. "W-what... H-how did..." she squeaked, thunderstruck.

The air shimmered, and then Harry's head became visible. "Invisibility cloak," he said, eyes glowing. "Aunt Bella sent it for my birthday. Said she got it off some buggery coot."

"What... What does it have to do with me?"

"Don't start feeling special, Granger. You're here because I had no one else. Draco and Theo would rat me out in a second, and Daphne would probably steal it. Crabbe and Goyle are just slow as shit." he huffed.

"No one else for WHAT?" Hermione shuddered.

Harry smiled, a sharp, deranged expression. "I wasn't in the hall with everybody else. McGonagall and _Dumbledore_," he spat, derision in every syllable of the man's name, "put me in his office. I heard them talking when they thought I was asleep. They think Black is here for me. And they think he's still in the castle."

"And?"

"And I'm going to find him, tonight."

Hermione instantly backpedaled, away from the crazy Slytherin. "You're nuts." she whispered.

Harry smiled again. "Little bit, maybe."

* * *

** (I know, all this wait and I leave you with a cliffhanger. But it was getting ridiculously long. As always, review!)**


	10. That Did Not Go As Planned

**(A/N: "You SAID-!"**

**Ssh, shh. I know. I know. Just...*hangs head in shame* Review, please, and forgive me for my unacceptable lateness.)**

**«»«»«»«»«»«»«»**

"You-No. No, no, no." Hermione hissed, instantly turning on her heel to go back to her sleeping bag. Harry Potter was the poster child for insanity, apparently, and she wanted no part of it.

This was shaping up to be another psychotic year, just like first, and second...

"Granger-!"

"No!" she snapped, forgetting to keep her voice down. "No, I won't do this again! You're a curse on this school and I'm tired of getting roped into these things!"

"What are you TALKING about?!" he growled, confusion written all over his face.

Hermione crossed her arms tightly across her chest and glared at a spot in the middle of his forehead. "Every year, something goes wrong because of you and I almost get killed! First it was the Stone, and the troll, and Malfoy blackmailing me about Fluffy-"

"I didn't know-!"

"Then it was second year and being Petrified, and Ron's sister nearly dying, and that was when I barely knew you!" she yelped. Tears clung to her chin, sliding down her neck. "You look for trouble, Harry Potter, and I don't. I'm NORMAL, I'm...I'm...I don't want this! You want to look for Sirius Black, do it by yourself!"

"I thought you were my friend," he snarled angrily. "I guess I was wrong."

"Why? Why are you doing this?! You know he wants to hurt you!" she said. They were right about him. He was a glory hog and a thrill seeker, and she wanted no part of it.

He strode forward and gripped her arm, forcing her to look him in the eye. "They were talking, when they thought I was asleep," he mumbled. "They were talking about making me leave the school until Black was caught. The Malfoys go on Holiday while Draco's at school- I think they're in Germany or something right now. Do you know what that means?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "I'd have to go back to my aunt and uncle's. It was the same thing last year. I WON'T go back there if I don't' have to. I'll run away before I-" He took a shuddering breath.

She was silent, gaping at him, and he let her go. There was no more anger, just solemn determination. "I didn't ask for this," he said, gesturing at his forehead. "I didn't ask for the bull that comes with it. I don't want people to try and kill me. But I also don't want anyone getting hurt because of me. If I can find Black...I can keep him occupied long enough for the teachers to show up and get him. Then he'll be back in Azkaban and everybody can stay here."

Hermione was speechless for the second time that night. Her lips opened and closed like a fish, eyes glassy with shock. After a second, she blushed in shame at her accusations and her fear, lowering her eyes to her shoes. She had been dead wrong. He was willing to potentially sacrifice his safety for the school's.

Glory hog, indeed. She felt like the biggest arse.

"He...he could kill you." she whispered finally. "I f you do find him...there's no guarantee that the teachers would come in time.

" He smiled grimly. "I'm not defenseless, you know. The Malfoy's taught me a few things. And I have my cloak, so I can just disappear."

"But...but..." Hermione stuttered, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "This is insane..."

"Please, Hermione," he said quietly. "I...I need somebody to come with me."

"Why me?" she sighed desperately.

He was quiet for a while, and when he spoke, it was barely audible. "Because I...I think I...trust you. I don't trust a-anybody...except maybe Hagrid. But you're different than everybody else."

He trusted _her?_ She glanced up at him, and the raw truth he was trying to hide in his eyes. He looked so pathetic. This was insane, this was crazy, this was...

Oh, hell.

"F-fine," she breathed shakily, crumbling. The smile he beamed at her did THINGS to her heart and stomach that she despised.

"Brilliant!"

He was crazy, and apparently so was she. Excellent. This would be the year that finally killed her, she was certain.

Harry held open the cloak and nodded to her. "Come on then." Hermione balked, staring at him first, then the cloak.

"Wait, you mean, under there? With _you?"_

He sighed loudly. "Yes, Granger, with me. The invisible effect doesn't work _outside_ the cloak."

Tomato red, Hermione edged underneath the fabric and let it settle over them. It was warm and dark, obviously, heated by their mingling breath. The cloak smelled like him, and it was thinner than it looked, letting them see the outside fairly easily. Their shoulders brushed closely. He turned and grinned at her, a flash of white teeth above green eyes. "Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be." she sighed. "Still think you're crazy."

"Relax, Granger. I've done this a million times."

Merlin. What had she gotten herself into...?

**«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»**

Half an hour into the search, Hermione had relaxed (slightly). She had expected them to run into Sirius Black as soon as they rounded the very first corner, but it soon became apparent that that wasn't the case. Their search proved as fruitless as the teacher's had been, despite them scouring every inch of the school twice, she stopped seeing it as a suicide mission and actually began to enjoy herself.

Hogwarts was a different place at night, silent and steeped in shadows. Random balls of floating lights darted along the halls and in between their ankles like excited puppies, illuminating the slumbering portraits on the walls. They nearly crashed into a MOVING suit of armor and were almost caught by at least two ghosts, but they didn't find their quarry.

"He's not here," Hermione breathed, clutching at the stitch in her side as they stopped by the entry hall. Sweat soaked her gown and matted her hair to the back of her neck. Her feet and legs ached like she'd run a mile. "He must have left. Let's just go back."

"I don't get it," Harry muttered, looking murderous. "How could he have gotten away?"

"Does it matter?" Hermione countered. "We're going to get caught eventually. We should just go back."

"Maybe, maybe if we search the dungeons again...and we didn't check the astrology tower..." Harry offered, hints of desperation in his voice. Hermione felt pity well in her chest as she turned to look at him. Shadows ringed his eyes, and he looked pale and drawn and frustrated.

She knew he was feeling helpless, and that his desperation was coming from his desire to stay at school and not be sent back to his relatives. His determination had only doubled, driving him forward through his exhaustion, but he wasn't thinking clearly. "Harry," she said slowly, touching his shoulder. "We have to go back. Everyone will be getting up very soon. I know you want to find him, but...there's nothing we can do now."

He didn't reply. She bit her lip, and tried one more time. "Harry, please. Getting expelled won't help anyone. I'll...I'll help you look myself tomorrow, or this weekend."

Once again, those jewel bright eyes focused on her, narrowed in suspicion. "You will?"

Hermione swallowed dryly. "I promise."

He stared at her for a long time, and then she saw the corner of his mouth pulling up into a tiny smile.

A ragged sound by their feet made them both jump a mile. Heart racing, Hermione frantically searched for the cause of the noise.

"WhatisitwhatisitohMerlinMerlin-"

Suddenly Harry hissed out a laugh, grabbing her elbow and pointing. "Look...it's that wretched cat." She looked, and saw Miss Norris padding grumpily down the hall on the opposite side of the corridor. She huffed a snicker of her own, feeling relieved and a little foolish. "Oh...I thought..."

"I'm pretty sure she can't see us." Harry mused. "I wonder..."

She caught the devious tone in his voice and shook her head rapidly. "Oh, Harry no, please..."

"Come on," he smirked, "don't tell me you've never wanted to do it? Just one good, firm kick?"

"Filch will come, he'll murder us. Don't do it." she begged. His grin reached a new level, and she groaned as he yanked out his wand and pointed it at the scrawny cat.

_"Furnunculus!"_

A jet of bright yellow light erupted from under the cloak and hit Miss Norris dead on. The cat yowled and shrieked in anger and pain as green and mustard colored boils popped into existence all over her body. Harry burst into hysterical laughter and Miss Norris took of down the hall, caterwauling like a siren.

"_Harry!" _Hermione exclaimed, punching him hard in the arm as he gasped for breath, tears streaming down his face. She let out a frustrated noise and stalked away from him, forcing him to run after her to stay under the cloak.

"T-that was p-p-priceless," he choked, turning the corner. "Hilari..."

They both stopped in their tracks, silence falling on them like a boulder from a precipice. His laughter died instantly in his throat. Hermione let out a tiny, terrified whimper.

Right in front of them, lurking just inside the entrance to the school, was a lone Dementor.

The creature stared at them directly through the invisibility cloak, leaving no doubt to Dumbledore's statement that they had no effect on them. It's rotted breath rasped in and out of it's dark hood with a steady, ragged cadence, like a death rattle, reminiscent of the scent of spoiling flesh where it wafted over their faces. It's very presence seemed to freeze the air and left them shaking uncontrollably.

It was Death personified.

Hermione struggled to breathe as it did nothing but gaze at them. Her chest felt heavy and clogged, like she was drowning, and a sensation like icewater coursed through her veins. A feeling of the most intense morose and awful emptiness weighed down on her, a hundred times worse than on the train during the inspection, and tears sprung to her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to run, or even look away. She couldn't remember what laughter felt like...or happiness...or...anything.

She could hear her mother sobbing at her grandmother's funeral, remembered her dog being struck by a car when she was six, feel her ankle splinter when she fell from the slide at the park...

She felt a strong urge to lay down, and simply...pass away, stop breathing. Cease to exist.

Beside her, Harry was faring the worst. He had sunk to his knees, clutching his head against shrieks only he could hear and gasping for air that wouldn't come. His mouth was open in a silent scream, and he was clawing at his ears hard enough to leave long, bloody lines in his skin. All the color had drained out of his face, and he was weakening by the second. He slumped against Hermione, mumbling, and it was all she could do to keep standing, barely.

"H-H-H-Harry..."

"_stopstoppleasestopstop-"_

The Dementor inhaled, and every last bit of warmth was sucked from Hermione's spirit. It began to move forward, drifting closer.

"H-H-H...Har...Harry..."

"_pleasepleasepleaseleaveheraloneleaveheraloneplease-"_

The black cloak shifted, lifted. One scabbed, slimy looking hand reached out for them.

"HARRY!"

"_NOTHARRYPLEASENONONONOTHARRYPLEASE-!" _

It's skeletal fingers were inches from her face...her vision was going dark around the edges...she felt Harry slide to the floor silently beside her, convulsing-

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

The hallway was suddenly filled with silver light and a loud rushing noise. Just like on the train, the Dementor let out a horrid screech and raced away from the source- Professor Lupin, wand out, looking like a grim, frayed-robe savior.

Warmth and air returned in a wave as soon as the creature was gone. Hermione felt her lungs fill, realizing that she hadn't been breathing. She fell to her knees and turned Harry around to face her, blinking through tears. His skin was icy cold to the touch, and his breath created vapors in the air. His glasses had slipped off. "Harry?!" she squeaked, cradling his head in her lap and trying to rub some warmth back into his wrists.

"Proffesor?" she gasped, head spinning. The thin man fixed her with a stony gaze, holding a finger to his lips. "Listen to me very carefully," he said, "don't say a word. I need you to agree with everything I'm about to say, and we will be having a discussion about this later." Shaken, Hermione nodded.

"Give me the cloak, quickly!" Lupin snapped. Footsteps and shouting were closing in on them fast. Trembling, Hermione gathered the cloak from around their bodies and tossed it to him. He pointed his wand and Banished it- the cloak went zooming down the hallway just as Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall stampeded down the hallway in their nightclothes, tailed by Percy Weasely and two other prefects.

"_WHAT-IN-THE-BLAZES?!" _McGonagall shrieked, purple with rage in her tartan nighgown. Upon catching sight of the prone Harry, she nearly seized, face paling like a sheet. "Mr. Weasely, get Madam Pomphrey at once."

"Y-yes, yes of course!"

"_Lupin,"_ Snape snarled, looking like a baited dog as he glared with unrestrained hatred at the DADA teacher. "What is going on? Why is a student of my house unconscious?"

Dumbledore kneeled by Hermione, taking in her shaking body and dilated pupils. "Severus," he said grimly. "These students need medical attention."

"No, I want an explanation!"

"It was a Dementor," Lupin cut in. "Miss Granger and Mr Potter were going to the bathroom when they encountered it. It attacked them."

"Bullshit," Snape growled, eye twitching. "Potter always goes looking for trouble; he was doing something else, I'll have you know I'm not an idiot-"

"Indeed, Severus?" Lupin countered coolly. "Do you see any reason to have another explanation?"

"He's his father's son," Snape spat. "He probably was trying to find Black and apprehend him single-handedly, for the glory I'd expect. And as for you, Lupin...what were you doing here, at this late hour?"

"Are you accusing me of-"

"Enough of this pissing contest!" McGonagall broke in. Hermione choked; in any other moment, she would have laughed at hearing the Head of House curse, and at the two professors being scolded like little boys. "These two need help!"

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said calmly, fixing her with his x ray eyes. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Remembering Lupin's instruction, Hermione swallowed and blinked, still cradling Harry like an infant in her lap. She regurgitated Lupin's story, not having to fake her terror. "I-I...I w-w-woke up to g-go to the loo...H-Harry w-was l-leaving too, a-and we d-didn't w-want to go alone...it w-w-as just r-right _there..."_

"You see?" Lupin said. Snape looked homicidal, but said nothing else. At that moment, Percy came back with Madam Pomphrey at his heels. The matron immediately descended on the two students. Hermione let out a small, panicked noise as she levitated his body away from her, and he was raised out of her arms. For some reason, she didn't want to let him go. She grabbed his glasses from the floor and held onto them like a lifeline.

McGonagall helped her to her feet as Harry was lifted away. She only had eyes for his face, white and dead looking.

"Come on now dear, up you get..." They walked on like that, a procession towards the hospital wing, with Snape and Lupin arguing in the rear. As they passed the great hall, Hermione saw that each and every student had been awakened by the commotion and was watching them with wide, scared, disbelieving eyes.

She wrapped her arms around herself, and shuddered, feeling as though the Dementor was right behind her still, breathing its death rattle down her back. Harry's still face floated to the front of her mind, and more tears dripped down her cheeks.


	11. Lupin's Request

The minute that they reached the hospital wing, Madame Pomphrey pried Hermione's jaws open and force-fed her as much Honeyduke's extra thick and milky as she could hold, watching her with a steely gaze and making sure she chewed and swallowed all of it.

In the back of her mind, Hermione shuddered at the thought of all the sugar no doubt coating her teeth, and what her parents would say if they saw her eating an entire piece of candy the size of her neighbours cat, but Madame Pomphrey's wrath was more terrifying in that instant than even a pair of dentists.

Besides, the chocolate actually did help much in the way that it had on the train. It chased the last residual chill from the Dementor's horrible aura out of her chest and sent a warm feeling racing through her veins the longer she sucked on it, shivering oddly here and there.

She was mostly ignored in favour of Harry. It took two _Enerverate_ spells to revive him, and when he did finally wake, it was with a distressed shout.

"WHA-Mum-stop, p-please, don't-!" he yelled, struggling against the magical bonds holding him to the cot. His face was wet from hysteric moisture, hair matted to his face with panicked sweat.

Hermione felt as though she'd been shocked when he called out for his mother, and another torrent of tears rolled down her cheeks.

She knew all about Dementors, of course, from her pre term reading. It all made sense as she recalled the chapter in _Fantastic Beasts_ about them. Dementors fed on joy and happiness, and forced their victim to relive painful and miserable experiences. She could only imagine what Harry had seen.

Lupin was there to restrain him, grabbing his arms firmly but gently. "Harry, you need to calm down. Whatever you're seeing, it's not happening in reality."

"D-don't hurt her! Don't hurt her!" Harry flinched away from Lupin's hands, staring widely at whatever was playing in his mind.

"Harry, please-"

"Move aside, Professor!" Madame Pomphrey rushed over once more, having returned from her office in the back with a goblet of something that smelled like warm honey. She shooed Lupin away and grabbed the back of Harry's head, guiding the mystery potion to his lips and holding his chin to make sure it all went down.

Whatever it was, it was fast acting. He literally wilted and stilled before their eyes, sinking back onto the cot bonelessly as he was swiftly carried to unconsciousness.

Lupin let out his breath in a huff, smoothing down his thin, pale hair. "Thank you, Poppy."

"You need to deal with Severus," Madame Pomphrey snapped, apparently forgetting about the non unconscious child in the room. She sat the goblet down with a hard clank, making Hermione flinch. "He was trying to give the boy Veritaserum. A bloody TRUTH potion, Lupin, after what just happened-!"

"I will speak to him, Poppy." Lupin said soothingly. "Thank you again for this."

"Of course, of course. Couldn't very well leave him like that." Shaking her head irritably, the nurse stalked into the back. Lupin sighed and turned to Hermione, who gulped.

"Miss Granger," he began seriously, "if you haven't been honest about what occured tonight, I'd suggest you start."

"Will Harry be in trouble?" Hermione squeaked, pressing her hands to her rolling guts. Lupin pulled up a chair and took a seat. "That depends, Miss Granger."

Hermione let out a shaky exhale and gazed at her knee. Continuing to lie was useless. It was obvious that Lupin was at least aware that she'd fudged the truth with Dumbledore and the others- hell, he was the one that told her to lie in the first place. Absurdly, she knew, it felt like she was betraying Harry, even though their friendship was shaky at best.

"We...H-Harry came to wake me up." she said at last. "After everyone was asleep. He had that cloak. It could make us invisible. He said..." she bit down on her lip.

"He said he wanted to find Black." Lupin guessed grimly.

"Not for the reason Sna- I mean, Professor Snape said." Hermione defended quickly. "I thought the same thing too. But Professor, it wasn't like that. He...he was trying to save the school, so no one would have to leave. The Malfoys are gone, and his relatives are awful-"

"I'm well aware of the situation, Miss Granger. I think we all are. The Daily profit made sure of that last year." Lupin cut in. Hermione paused, nodding once, and Lupin sighed again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Deep shadows ringed his eyes, and his shoulders held a sort of permanent slump to them.

When he spoke again, it was soft, and stressed. "Hermione, I don't share the same opinion about Harry that Sev- Professor Snape does, or even that those outside this school do. I know that Harry isn't the type to chase danger for glory. What he does is much more...dangerous."

He steepled his fingers and continued. "I know you remember the Chamber of Secrets incident as you were...er, directly involved. But do you recall the Philosophers Stone?"

Hermione nodded again, and Lupin licked his lips. "They marked Harry as a thrill seeker, but I think you and I both know that's not the case. Harry is motivated by his sense of honor, and to do what's right."

"B-but he's...he's a Skytherin!" she blurted, then immediately blushed at the raised eyebrow she received. She realized how idiotic that statement was. She'd come to the same conclusion about Harry herself after he told her his plan. "I just meant...bravery and righteousness, those are typically, er...Gryffindor traits." she clarified. "But the hat put him in Slytherin."

"You'll have to ask Harry about that, Hermione." Lupin said, with a sad smile. "All I can tell you is that it's not an exact science, or a guaranteed thing." He shook his head and learned forward, all traces of a smile vanishing from his face.

"What I'm about to say to you, I need to remain between us. No one can know, especially not Harry. Sirius Black has been implicated in some very serious crimes, and there has legitimate reason to believe that he is coming to harm Harry."

"But...why?" Hermione whispered.

Lupin looked pained. "Black...has been named as a supporter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And Harry is, well...Harry. Beyond that, I'm really not allowed to say."

He suddenly reached forward and grabbed her hand, squeezing. His fingers were cold. "I know that you and Harry are friends, despite what you show to the school. You know about the masks he wears. He's let you in. So I'm begging you- please, don't let him dig any further into Sirius Black. Discourage him, anger him if you must, but keep him in the dark. If he learns the truth about Black, it will destroy him, and possibly get him killed. You're one of the few people he trusts. You have to promise me that you'll help keep him safe."

Hermione was stunned to see tears shining in his eyes. "Professor... I told him I'd help him."

"Hermione, please. He cannot continue in this vein. He won't protect himself, so we must do it for him."

Hermione glanced over at Harry, still and pale on his cot, and recalled the horrible convulsions he'd suffered from the Dementor. Lupin was right. That could never be allowed to happen again.

"Al...alright. I promise." she sighed, dragging her legs up to her chest and burying her face in her knees. A heavy feeling settled inside her.

"Thank you," Lupin exhaled, giving her hand one last squeeze before standing. He was straightening his robes when Madame Pomphrey walked back in, scribbling something on a chart.

"That's you done, dear." she nodded to Hermione.

"Madame Pomphrey, er...can't I stay here tonight? Please? I don't..."

The matron pursed her lips and breathed out sharply through her nose, but she must have thought Hermione looked pathetic enough. Her eyes softened.

"Fine, fine. But only for tonight." With a wave of her wand she erected the privacy screen and began to help Hermione into a pair of hospital wing pyjamas. "Will that be all, Professor?"

"Yes, yes. Thank you, Madame Pomphrey. I do hope you feel better, Miss Granger." he said formally. Behind the screen, Hermione couldn't see him as he left, but she thought she heard a slight tremor in his voice.

Madame Pomphrey guided her back down to the cot and handed her another goblet full of the same warm potion. "Come on then, dear. I'd imagine you need this."

Hermione took it gratefully and let it slip down her throat. Her muscles relaxed as soon as it hit her tongue, eyes fluttering closed to the sound of Madame Pomphrey's grumbling. All of her thoughts sank to the bottom of her mind like stones in a creek, and Hermione passed into a blissfully dreamless sleep.


End file.
